With the holidays come the crazies. This would be the number one reason I hate the holidays. Perfectly normal people, I assume, start behaving like absolute nutjobs.
Case in point: rude guy at post office. With my Etsy shop, I spend some time at the post office. I actually don't much mind. I usually like my local tellers and they are very friendly. And with the longer lines that happen in December, there's the self-serve kiosk.
Except when a complete asshat thinks it's okay to bogart the kiosk with his thousands of packages. Seriously. You think I exaggerate. But he had bags and bags of large envelopes and packages, each one to be individually weighed and postage applied. I eventually gave up when I realized he planned to be there until New Years eve and got in the general line. Putting me in the post office for around 45 minutes.
But it's not the ridiculous amount of time I spent there that pisses me off; it's this guy's obvious disregard for others. I think that if you bring in all the mail for your entire county, you should have to get in line. The kiosk should be for people with one or two packages, for those who don't need to do much so they shouldn't have to spend all day in line.
Alas this dude did not get that unwritten courtesy. That kiosk was there just for him and his mountain of mailing, the rest of the world be damned.
Also accompanying the damned holiday season are...(no, not snow. I WISH! not yet anyway.)...asshole drivers. Now, I've yet to figure out if the asshole drivers simply venture onto the roads in December or if all the normally courteous drivers turn into utter reckless idiots near the solstice. Something to do with axial tilt maybe?
This is a rule no matter what city in which you reside, I am certain. Unless you're Amish. And in that case, watch out for rogue buggies.
I can't tell you how many insane accidents and near misses I have witnessed in the last week alone.
As I was walking through a parking lot, I had to jump out of the way of a reversing vehicle. Because the douchehat just didn't bother to look back.
The other day, I was behind a car that was turning into a parking lot and I followed it in because the road was clear. But wait! That would have been too easy, because that driver, just as he entered the driveway, decided that no he didn't want to go that way and threw his car into reverse. It's a good thing car horns can magically stop asshats because my Lola almost got a nice, new Christmas dent.
But that story doesn't stop there! The dude refused to go forward (because that would have been unreasonable) so I had to reverse into the parking lane and go around the damn block. Gosh how rude of me. I should really try to be more considerate.
I've watched cars drive right in front of other cars. Because life is that crucial. Because in the 3 seconds it took to wait for the car which had right of way, that last toy your kid wanted might sell out. And then your spawn will think there's no Santa. And you'll be a bad parent.
Right. Because it's a happy Christmas when a doctor has to tell your kid that mommy is dead and Santa can't bring mommies back to life. Or when the police take mommy away for vehicular manslaughter. Merry Christmas, kids!
I can't tell you how apathetic I've been about this holiday season. You all probably know by now that I don't really celebrate Christmas. I buy books for my nephew. I make gifts for my friends. But that's as Christmassy as I get.
I do enjoy Yule and New Years however and most years I decorate in wintry themes. Lost of blue and snowflakes. Lots of sparkly.
Side note: my old roommate was very religious, very strict with her Jewish faith, which I totally respected. And I wanted to be sensitive going into the holidays. I mean, you just never know what will bother people of any faith. So I asked her if it would bother her if I decorated for Yule. Put up a small fake tree. Strung lights.
She said: as long as you don't hang a huge cross. "Um," I said, "first, that's Easter, not Christmas. Two, Yule has nothing to do with Christianity. And three, do I seem like the type of girl to hang a massive cross in my house?"
Anyway, this year I just didn't want to do anything. I put up my little fake fiber optic tree. Aaaaand that's it. I didn't even unpack it well. Its branches are all dusty and wonky. Didn't put my teeny ornaments on it because the cats would just eat them anyway.
I guess I just really don't care this year.
Saturday night at karaoke, my friend asked me what I was doing for Christmas. I replied nothing. I don't celebrate. And she looked at me like I was the saddest, most pathetic creature she'd ever seen.
But I am here to say that it's not pathetic! I choose not to celebrate. I'm not sad and alone on Christmas. I'm just me on a day like any other day that millions of people happen to call a holiday.
Best Christmas dinner I ever had was at a Turkish restaurant in London. Good thing they don't celebrate Christmas in Turkey.
Side story: my dad's company announced in a meeting that they were collecting money for Christmas to send to children in Afghanistan. My dad was like, "Um, they don't celebrate Christmas." Word, Dad. Word.
So I went to a new karaoke joint Saturday night. I liked this place. Very small, divey neighborhood basement bar kind of a place. It was really slow for the first few hours and I think I sang like 12 songs. That never happens. Usually you're lucky if you get 2 or 3.
But I did get drug up with friends to sing a couple songs I don't really know. I hate that. I like to know what song I'm singing well. But oh well. It was funny I guess that I was fucking up Shoop.
Oh! And my fave part of this place? Harvey the Gay Cowboy. Harvey is 85 years old and on fire gay. You think I'm exaggerating again, but no. He is actually 85 years old. He is 12 kinds of fabulous in a plaid shirt and belt buckle. I'm told he even sometimes wears a Stetson. He told me I was incredible. As he danced to every song I sang. I wish I had a photo of him, but dude didn't stand still. Maybe next time.
Which is possibly next Saturday. As in Christmas. Oh yes. Believe it.
Do you ever have dreams about someone you shouldn't or don't want to? But you can't control it? That person just pops in your head the minute you drift off, and, let's be honest, the dreams are pretty freaking delicious?
How do I stop that?
Opium? Wait, that might make it worse.
Laudanum? Do they still make that?
Speaking of delicious...
Did you guys hear that I won the 24k gold vibrator? I did! ME! I won!!
Let it be known that when I really want to win something, I am a fierce competitor.
Also: you know that a review will be coming. Oh yes. I am so fucking stoked.
Jeté news: she is happy. Turns out she didn't really need that post-chemo medication and so I stopped it. And she's been happy. That shit was too stressful for her, was making her more sick from stress if you ask me.
She had her checkup on Friday and her blood work was all normal. We go back for a second chemo in 2 weeks and they'll measure her tumor then to see how responsive it is. Hoping for good news (of course)!
But if she's not responding, we're kind of screwed. We can't operate without shrinking it and radiation isn't possible both for financial reasons (it would cost around $10 thousand) and because the closest radiation oncologist is in Seattle.
So the chemo has to work! All there is to it.
This makes me so incredibly happy:
- Chicks who do it for me
- Lose Weight Fast with the Heartbreak Diet!
- Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals
- epic existential post just in time for that arbitrary changing of the calendar which I so love
- Public Service Announcement
- Horrifying Shit on Pinterest: Slut Shaming E-Cards
- Animal Monster Bird Squawk Dinosaur Creature
- My Doctors Always Suck, otherwise entitled Why I Hate Kaiser
- Sexy Saturdays: Slutty Saturday
- fishcunts and cum dumpsters